


I Will Come To You

by Spaceytrash



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caring James Wilson (House M.D.), Episode Fix-it, Episode Related, Episode: s06e21 Help Me, M/M, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceytrash/pseuds/Spaceytrash
Summary: Wilson was worried while House was at the crash site. The fact that Cuddy couldn't let him leave, not helping one bit. So he decided to head there too, just in time to hear a fight and reveal something personal.How "Help Me" could have gone with Hilson in mind.
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 114





	I Will Come To You

**Author's Note:**

> Watched this episode to relax after a day of studying and this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So, like the idiot I am, I wrote this instead of going to sleep at a reasonable hour to have more studying time tomorrow.

“What do you mean Cuddy won’t let him leave? She said that?”

Wilson was frantic, a crane had collapsed, crashing buildings in his fall and hundreds of people were in the hospital or at the process of being brought to the hospital to get more medical attention to their injuries. He had been bandaging and looking at victims for an hour and was already exhausted, but people needed him.

House had left for the crash site with Cuddy and some other doctors, but apparently, he had wanted to go back for a case, but Cuddy didn’t want to let him leave. At least that was what Taub had told him. With anyone else he would have understood Cuddy. They needed all the doctors they could get there, and they are probably very understaffed, but it was House!

The crash site wasn’t a place for him, not with his leg. Visions of House stumbling over debris, ruining his leg further, or hitting his head on something, bleeding out, dying, filled his mind. Filling him with unimaginable dread and fear, quickening his heartbeat and making him feel almost sick with worry. House should be here treating patients, where he couldn’t stumble so easily and fall. Where he wanted and should be. Near Wilson, where he could see what was happening and prevent his friend from hurting himself. He knew House was very well capable of watching out for himself, but he couldn’t supress the feeling of dread that something would happen without Wilson there.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts in time to see Taub nod and tell him that he had heard correctly. Wilson nodded absentmindedly and reached for the phone in his coat pocket, dialling Cuddy’s number. While he waited for her to pick up, he started bandaging someone’s arm wound.

“What’s going on Wilson? Why are you calling?”

“Did you tell House he couldn’t leave?” his voice was slightly shaky, from his panicked thoughts, earlier, and he hated how visibly upset he was with worry for his best friend.

“I need him here. We haven’t nearly enough doctors around and there are still people missing. I need everyone I can get”

The poor person he treated let out a painful gasp and Wilson realized he was pulling the bandage too hard. Of course, she was right, but a crash site was hardly the place for a disabled doctor. Not even when said doctor was House. Especially when it was House, because despite his pain and what others may think about his personality, he would strain his leg too much to try his best to help people. And despite what he wants people to believe his footing isn’t nearly as secure as it might seem. Especially with tons of debris lying around.

“Sorry,” he muttered to the patient before turning back to Cuddy, “I understand, but you need to realize this isn’t the best place- “

“Wilson, I need to go. He can’t leave, I need him. I’m sorry”

He sighed frustrated and put his phone back in his pocket, concentrating again on his patient. Once he finished, he told someone that he was taking a 5-minute break and left the ER to escape to the silent solitude of his office, where no one would interrupt him for the time being.

He pulled his phone out again, pressed speed dial one and waited for his friend to answer, while sitting down on is office chair. He was nervous and the longer the phone rang the more it grew. What if House had already hurt himself? What if something had happened? A second collapse wasn’t uncommon and with House’s luck he would be right in the middle of it. Wilson knew he was working himself into a frenzy and he should put more trust and faith into House and his ability to know how to care about himself, but the past had taught him he couldn’t. House often didn’t know when he was pushing too far and that’s when Wilson had to cut in and force him to rest or similar.

“C’mon House… pick up”

Finally, after a minute of ringing, he heard the tone signalling that his call went through, but all he could hear was heavy breathing, sirens, and screaming from far away. Instantly his mind went to the worst possible conclusion. House was hurt under debris with no way out, badly wounded and in pain.

“House?! Are you there?! C’mon talk to me,” his voice was frantic and filled with worry, not in any shape, form nor need to hide it for once.

“Calm down, I’m here. I just have bad reception right now. Why are you so worried anyway?”

Wilson felt the tightness, he just now noticed had taken residence in his throat, dissolve making breathing easier and his heartrate calm. House was okay, he wasn’t hurt. Years earlier he probably wouldn’t have worried quite so much about House, but they had grown so much closer while living together and even despite their divergence once he had started dating Sam, he still felt more worried than ever. Especially knowing House’s luck.

He had been drug free for a year and Wilson worried something would happen that made him go back and seek refuge in them once more.

His own guilt, like so often recently, washing through him. He had pushed House away lately. Out of fear, because they were getting so much closer, too close, so he had dived headfirst into his relationship with Sam. Maybe the guilt was really the reason why he was so worried about his friend. That and the reason why he had needed to push House away in the first place. The feelings that had started to overwhelm him, feelings he shouldn’t feel about his best friend. And what did that really say about him? What kind of person did that make him?

“Cuddy told me she can’t let you leave. How did that come about? Where are you anyways, you sound strange”

“She was pissed, she couldn’t show off her cleavage with the clean up suit, so she punished me instead. And currently, I guess, I’m on my way to crawl underneath some crushed building”

Underneath a crushed building? Had he heard that correctly? What was he doing that for? Somebody must have been trapped down there, but why did it have to be House that needed to crawl underneath there and save them?

“You’re crawling underneath a crushed building?! Why?”

“Take a wild guess. Because someone’s trapped there. Her leg’s stuck underneath some debris. They wanted to amputate but she didn’t want that”

Wilson could hear what his tired words weren’t saying. That House was the only one who thought it was her right and a good idea to try and save the leg. Medically speaking, amputation would be the saver and probably better route, but House knew what it felt like living with only one healthy and working leg.

His free hand moved towards his neck, kneading the tense muscles in an anxious way. He knew how much pressure House was putting on himself. How much he wanted to help her, so she wouldn’t have to suffer a similar fate as he himself had. It hurt Wilson’s heart to know that the other doctors probably didn’t know what this did to House or just didn’t care.

“Don’t do anything stupid, I’m on my way”

“What? You don’t need-,” but Wilson already hung up. There was no need to hear House try to convince him to stay away. He needed him, even if he didn’t know it yet but he would, Wilson knew.

He grabbed his coat and went to the lobby, telling the nurse he would head out to the crash site and did so. It was hard getting through the streets the closer he got to the site, but he didn’t let that stop him.

Worry was filling him, and he needed to know and see that House was fairing okay. Parking his car as close as he could, he got out and struggled to get through all the people trying to watch or help. Finally, after what felt like minutes, he arrived at the site. A flurry of people, firefighter, medics, doctors, victims and their families were running around frantically. Debris was laying everywhere. He looked around trying to locate House or at least Cuddy. But all he saw and heard were people talking about a secondary collapse and a woman not wanting her leg to be cut off.

Wilson felt his breathing stop and his heart hammering in is chest. Dread filling him, making him feel nauseous and shake slightly. That must be House’s patient, there was no way around it. Wilson prayed to a G-d he wasn’t even sure existed that House was okay. That they made it out.

Slowly and unsteadily he moved forward towards the collapsed structure. Beside him he heard people talk about people having made it out, but he couldn’t relax, not until he had seen his friend for himself.

Then finally, after looking around for minutes with his heart jumping out of his chest and his breathing coming far too quick, he spotted him. He was standing in a building entrance, his shoulder bandaged and looked weary but angry. Cuddy was standing in front of him and apparently the two were arguing about something. Wilson felt his worry increase; it was never a good sign when the both of them had a fight. Plus, House body language screamed anger and pain and it made him wince slightly with sympathy.

Quickly he moved towards them, the need to see House, to hear him say he’s okay overpowering him. But what he heard the second he was into earshot made him stop immediately. Rooting him into place out of shock and anger.

“What are you clinging to, House? You're gonna risk her life just to save her leg? Really worked out well for you, didn't it? What do you have in your life, honestly? Tell me. I'm moving on. Wilson is moving on. And you... You've got nothing, House, nothing. I'm going down there, and I'm gonna convince her to let me cut her leg off. If you have any decency left, you'll stay out of it.”

Anger contorted House’s normally so stoic face and all Wilson could do was stare. How dare Cuddy to tell House he had nothing?! How dare she presume Wilson was moving on from House. Yes, he had needed some space but not because he was moving on but because he needed to sort out his feelings so he wouldn’t destroy the best thing in his, - no their life. Their friendship. And even if it was true what right did Cuddy have to tell him that?

With his anger growing he felt his feet moving without his consent, but he didn’t mind, it was where he had wanted to go anyway. He walked up to them, Cuddy had seen him when she was about to walk away and stopped in her tracks. She was looking angry yet also regretful, but Wilson ignored it. For once he wasn’t in the mood to mediate and try to forgive.

He moved in front of her, using every bit of his height to look imposing. Something on his face must have shown how angry he was because Cuddy moved a tiny step back. Her hands unconsciously trying to flatten a non-existent crease in her overall. 

“Don’t ever talk to him like that again,” his eyes were flashing, his voice serious and dark. There was no need to voice a threat, he knew she understood his implications of what would happen if she dared to treat House like that again.

She was about to answer, but he ignored it and just walked away from her to House. He knew she was fuming but she would leave. House was more important. Wilson took a deep breath, trying to return his anger to the corner of his mind where it belonged. Once he had calmed a bit, he looked at his friend.

House was watching him with a weird glint in his eyes, like he had figured out a particularly interesting case instead of seconds ago having been hurt emotionally by his boss. Relief washed through him when he saw that despite all the things happening House was alright. For now.

“What are you doing here?” House asked, like nothing had happened, but his voice was rough and tired betraying his mask.

“I originally wanted to see if you’re okay and bring you back to the hospital for your patient, but apparently you needed a knight in shining armour and not a lift.”

“More like knight in an ugly tie”

Wilson smiled, House was okay, and everything would be alright. He felt lighter than he had all evening. Lighter than he had in a while. Since he had made his friend move out, really.

“So, what happened? You said someone was stuck underground,” he nodded towards the crashed building.

An agreeing grunt was all he got for a few minutes until House started talking again, “Cuddy’s right. We need to amputate the leg. But…”

He didn’t finish, but he didn’t need to. Wilson had a good idea of what was going through his head. How he didn’t want to be the person that had to cut off somebody’s leg, that had to subject them to a similar fate as his. It broke his heart so see is friend so crestfallen about the fate of his patient.

He moved to stand next to his friend, their shoulders touching and looking at the rubble where once a building had been. Drawing strength and comfort from the contact.

“Why did you really come here?”

Wilson glanced at House, but his face was still turned towards the debris, his expression unreadable even for him.

Shrugging, he admitted softly, “I was worried about you”

“Why?”

“I think you know why,” he whispered. He gulped; it was time the truth came out.

That’s when House finally looked away from the rubble and turned towards Wilson and their eyes met. Blue meeting brown. House’s eyes were shining with disbelieve and also hope. This was it. This is what their friendship had been leading up to all along.

Slowly their faces moved closer, never once breaking eye contact. Wilson’s heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn’t see anything but House’s eyes and the emotion in them. He didn’t know who had moved first, but suddenly they had closed the gap and their lips met. Soft meeting rough ones. He felt his eyes close and he had to grab House’s shirt, feeling slightly dizzy, to not stumble and fall.

A wet tongue slid along the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss and Wilson felt long fingers slide through his hair and he pulled the other closer, needing to feel his warmth against his body. Needing to feel him close.

After a short time, they had to break the kiss to get much needed air in their lungs. Wilson still gripping House’s shirt, trying to calm the racing beat of his heart. Their friendship had irrevocably changed and hopefully for the better. All his repressed feelings were coming to light. They needed to talk but this was neither the place nor the time. They had waited for more than 10 years already; a few more moments won’t hurt.

“Go help her. I’ll be here when you get out again,” Wilson whispered, his hand finally releasing the fabric of the other.

House nodded solemnly; his face closed up once more. He quickly grabbed Wilson’s hand, giving it a short squeeze, before he went back to the crash site and disappeared underneath it.

It took about half an hour to drag Hannah, Wilson learned her name was, out of the building. House always close by, his face solemn and closed off. Wilson’s heart throbbed painfully when he saw him. Their eyes met for a second and Wilson gave him a short nod. He knew House would want to drive with the ambulance, so he turned and walked towards his car, driving back to PPTH, hoping that nothing bad would happen to Hannah now that she has lost her leg.

The hope was cruelly shattered when he arrived at the hospital though. The second he entered, he heard House scream at Foreman. His voice tired, sad and hurt, it cut into Wilson’s soul. But before he could decide what to do, he saw House storm towards the exit and subsequently towards him. Their eyes met once again, and Wilson was shocked at the pure pain he saw reflected at them. House had stopped in his tracks, breathing hard and then lowered his eyes.

Unconsciously Wilson took a few steps forwards, closing their distance, and softly took House’s hands in his own. They were shaking slightly, and he could hear House exhale curtly.

“It’s not your fault. You tried your best.”

“And yet, she died anyway,” House’s voice was rough and scratchy, painful even to Wilson’s ears.

Squeezing his hands softly Wilson nodded in understanding, “Let’s get you home and that wound cleaned”

When House nodded softly, he let go of his hands, and they slowly walked towards Wilson’s car. Their hands brushing together while they walked, making Wilson smile softly. They were going to be fine. House was going to be fine, because he would do his best to make it so.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't get me wrong I like Cuddy, but I still get pissed so much at her when I watch this epsiode, despite the actual ending. 
> 
> I've been studying around the clock for three weeks and still have two more to go, so I hope this was somewhat readable and not just a jumbled up mess. It really feels like my brain is mush and English isn't working anymore at the moment, but alas what can you do.


End file.
